


Egg Heavy

by rustedservos



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Biting, Egg Laying, Egg Preg, M/M, Oviposition, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:48:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10261814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustedservos/pseuds/rustedservos
Summary: Ratchet should have remembered the consequences of fragging. He should have remembered that, being it peacetime, that certain protocols would re-engage. As he leaned back on his berth, groaning at the new position and the weight that suddenly was pressing on his hips, a small smile tugged at his faceplates as he remembered the interfacing that started this mess.





	

Ratchet should have remembered the consequences of fragging. He should have remembered that, being it peacetime, that certain protocols would re-engage. As he leaned back on his berth, groaning at the new position and the weight that suddenly was pressing on his hips, a small smile tugged at his faceplates as he remembered the interfacing that started this mess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drift approached Ratchet, who was sitting in the cockpit, going over the current course. The medic was weary, a spark deep ache sitting deep in his chassis as he noted that they would need to refuel soon. The scrap of a pede at the door brought his attention back to the present, optics glancing at the white and red frame that stayed half hidden in the doorway.

“Drift? Is something the matter?” Ratchet asked politely, returning his attention back to the console, acting as if the sight of the speedster didn't do strange things to his spark. Drift had been hovering more often, almost always around, quiet and watchful. Ratchet had grown used to his presence, almost reveling in it, and missing the feel of the others field when he finally moved away. 

Drift took the verbalization of his name as a hint to come closer, almost crawling into the co-captains chair and staring out among the stars, leg tucked up against his chassis and swords absent.

“Do you love me?” He asked softly, startling the medic out of his almost trance like state as his helm whipped towards the other. His armor resettled, having puffed up from the others sudden question, as his engine rumbled.

“You should already know the answer to that.” He murmured, glancing away from the white frame in his space, optics flicking over the console as if that was going to change anything. Drift shifted, the chair creaking as intense optics locked onto the medic’s own, caught in another glance to the other mech.

“Sure. But do you love me?” Drift asked again, a slightly whine coming from his engine as his optics swirled with emotions that Ratchet couldn't even begin to describe. He nodded, vocalizer having turned itself off and resetting with a burst of static that he hastily cleared. 

“I love you, Drift. Very, very much.” He said softly, vents hissing to release pent up air as Drift moved. Ratchet’s optic ridges rose as he was pushed against the captain’s chair, Drift digging digits into sensitive seams , straddling the older mechs lap. There was force in that grip, enough to confuse Ratchet as his optics locked onto Drift’s frame again. His engine rumbled in warning as his own digits flexed, wanting to push Drift off and find out what was bothering him.

“Then why have you been hiding from me?” He asked, to which Ratchet’s faceplates went slack before he shifted minutely, faceplates inching closer to the speedsters own. His engine rumbled, settling into a deep growling purr that vibrated through his frame. Well, if the speedster wanted to know…..  
“Because I haven't been having pure thoughts, Drift, and I don't want to have to put you into that position. I am patient; I can wait.” He said, heat pooling in his chassis and his pelvis as his optics twinkled towards the other mech. He dug his digits into the armrests of the chair, vents cycling open to release heated air. Drift’s uncertain look drifted into one of understanding, then one of want. Ratchet watched all of this with narrowing optics.

“No.” He said, moving his hands to push the other off of him, but the sword mech was fast. Drift caught a red hand in his own, drawing it up to his mouth and kissing the scarred palm. His optics were locked onto Ratchets as he licked a wet stripe up the metal, gauging the others reaction. Ratchet bucked up into the other mech straddling him, helm hitting the back of the chair as he gasped. He had not dulled the sensitivity in his hands in so long, that he had forgotten how intense the feelings like this were. He glanced back at Drift’s face with a scowl.

“I said no.” He said, voice wavering between backing his statement and throwing caution to the wind. Drift resettled against the other, taking the hand captive and playing with the digits that he knew could be ripped from his grip at any point. Ratchet glanced down at the thighs framing his own, groaning at the sight and saving that image for later as he gently ground his heated codpiece into the mech above him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, other hand reaching out to catch the others chin, to make him pause from licking another finger. Drift shrugged, armor tucking against his frame as the flash of fang in that sinful mouth shot straight through Ratchet to his spark again.

“Sure. It will make you happy, right?” He said, to which Ratchet growled and surged forward, pinning the other mech against the console before him, still inside the other's thick thighs.

“That's not good enough, Drift. I need a clear answer. You know what this normally leads to. I am more than willing to walk away, right now.” Ratchet partially growled, optics narrowed on the others own. Drift’s optics twinkled with want as the slightly stunned mech looked up at the medic.

“Yes, please, i'm all yours.” He said, and Ratchet moved his hand away, helm swooping in to claim the others mouth with a kiss. He was gentle in his explorations, hands wandering, exploring the frame he had put back together more times than he could remember. Drift gasped into the other's mouth as Ratchet plucked at a wire or two, gripping onto the others plating as he ground into the others codpiece. Ratchet broke the kiss with a soft nip to the others lip plates, engine purring deep in his chest as he tucked one of drift’s legs behind his hip. He glanced around the area, growling at the tight spaces and easily broken machinery, to which Drift laughed lightly, tapping the other on the chestplate woozily.

“My room.” Drift panted, to which Ratchet grabbed the others hips and held him close, Drift locking his legs around the other's waist as they carefully moved to the bathroom. He lowered Drift onto the berth, but Drift used his thighs to twist them around so that Ratchet was underneath Drift. Ratchet rumbled in surprise at the change in direction before Drift shifted back, tapping at the still closed panels.

“Open for me, medic, it's time for your check-up.” Ratchet chuckled before his panels snapped open, valve clenching at the sudden cool air against wet lips, his spike pressurizing and pulsing with need. Drift checked the others spike, nodding at what he saw before pressing a soft, delicate kiss to the tip, then moving onto the other's valve. He massaged the metal around the leaking valve, his own panels having opened a while ago. He grinned as he gently slipped a digit against the other's lips, brushing faintly over the node nestled at the top. Ratchet shuddered, hips jerking into the touch as he arched up, having forgotten how intense this could be with someone you trusted.

“So sensitive, Ratchet…..”Drift murmured, rubbing at the node with a thumb, gently massaging it as he teased the lips, slipping a single digit in. He worked the medic open, soon pressing a second, then third finger in, spreading the mech under him open as his other hand gently brushed against the others spike. Ratchet cried out, valve grasping at the fingers in it as his spike twitched, then spurted transfluid over his chassis as one of the most intense orgasms washed over his frame. Charge crackled over him as he onlined his optics again, looking at the sword mech in embarrassment.

“That normally doesn't happen.” he said, vents panting for him as he rubbed his face with his hand, sure this was over and done with now that Ratchet had gotten off. But the movement of the fingers in his valve of them questing deeper instead of retreating out made him buck his hips into the touch.

“I'm not done yet, soldier.” Drift growled, finally removing his digits to the soft whine of the medic beneath him before bumping the tip of his spike against the valve. He missed on the first thrust, spike coating itself in Ratchet’s lubricants before he angled his next thrust and aimed the tip.

“You ready?” He asked, to which Ratchet grinned and nodded, before Drift started to seat himself in. Ratchet clenched at the berth, leaving indents on the material as his valve cycled open, then clenched on the intruder as if to draw him deeper into himself. His spike, which had been flagging in post overload bliss, started to stand to attention again, transfluid dribbling from the tip and adding to the mess on his chestplate.

Finally, Drift seated himself, hunching over his mate as his digits dug into the berth beside the medic. His optics were hooded in the semi darkness of the room ( Ratchet had forgotten to turn on the lights, so there was only the soft glow of stars and the single emergency light above the doorway lighting their carnal pleasures), his mouth open as his vents cranked out heat. Ratchet was afraid for a second that he had broken Drift, that he was gone and wasn't going to return the longer Drift stayed still.

“Drift?” he called softly, trying to force his valve to stop gripping onto that delicious spike spreading him open, but the sound of his name spurred the speedster into action. His helm rose, fangs flashing in a wide grin before descending on Ratchet’s neck, biting deep but being gentle with the sharp fangs. Ratchet moved his helm to the side, allowing the other better access to his neck as his hands clasped onto the others plating. His optics flickered as his valve squeezed down onto the spike that was retreating, pulling out until the tip was the only thing left in. Ratchet whined, pleasure/pain cycling through his frame as charge crackled over him again. Drift pushed back in, enjoying the smooth slide and the tight, wet heat that surrounded him as he accidentally nicked a line with a fang.

“Sorry.” he whispered sinfully against the cabling, licking the wound closed and kissing the area before trailing nippy kisses up to the others lip plates. His optics were dim as he continued to thrust, twisting his hips into the other's valve, letting his spike drag against the valve walls. Heat was pooling in Ratchet’s belly again as he struggled to grasp at Drift’s plating, hands spasming in pleasure as Drift caught his lips again. Drift’s optics closed as Ratchet’s own did, kissing deeply before nipping and pulling away at the others bottom lip. Ratchet moaned into the kiss, spike throbbing angrily as it continued to bump into Drift’s belly plating, and for a moment Ratchet had a flash of Drift, belly heavy with eggs as he fragged him, and Ratchet’s overload washed over him like a tsunami. His valve clenched down on the others spike, trying to drag it closer to his gestation chamber as he arched up, hands gripping onto Drift’s plating. 

The speedster, not expecting Ratchet to overload so fast, stuttered his hips to a halt, grinding their codpieces together as his own overload washed over him, frame arching gracefully over the medic. Hot transfluid gushed into the valve, filling the medic’s gestation chamber as a unknown mod on Drift’s spike started to seal them together. Ratchet writhed on the others knot, the steady gush of transfluid now having nowhere to go but into his tank. His vents were screaming, body overtaxed with one of the best frags he had ever had as Drift finally came down from his own high. Ratchet, frame weak from the multiple overloads and the need to cuddle, reached up and tried to drag Drift down to him, to care for him after such an exciting event, but the movement of either of them dragged the knot against the valve, causing them both to keen and shift.

They finally found a position to wait out the knot, cuddled as close as possible as they both started to drift into recharge. Ratchet was too sleepy to read the HUD’s alerts, so he missed the BREEDING PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED alert as he finally fell into blissful recharge, still tied together with Drift.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A clenching pressure on his hips drew his attention back to his current predicament as he struggled to not cry out. He did his best to roll silently off the berth, gravid middle pushed out as the hard objects in his gestation tank rolled. His belly rippled as they readjusted to the motions of the medic and he started to pace. 

Laying was a long process, one that was better sped up with gravity and motion, two things he was currently doing. The eggs continued to move, trying to settle closer and closer to the bottom of Ratchet’s tank and edging into the top of his valve. Each rippled clench of his abdominal plating made him pause in his pacing, soft grunts coming from him as he glanced at the closed door. It wasn't locked; he didn't necessarily want to keep Drift out, but the other didn't know about the clutch he sired on the medic. He didn't want to trap Drift here with a family he didn't need.

When the clenching started coming closer and closer together, pain washing over him with each new sensation of pressure, he turned back towards the berth, steps turning more into waddles before he clumsily clambered back onto the softer surface. He had piled a few of his rattier blankets for the eggs to be laid in, a rather rough nest for them. He made it onto the berth just in time for his oil to break, a rush of fluid coming from his now open valve panel as he grunted again. His abdominal plating shifted again, the lump of an egg pushing out against the other's belly as it firmly lodged itself into the top of his gestation tank. Ratchet huffed, vents cycling open as he made sure his field was locked down tight against him. He didn't want to draw attention to himself.

He gently pressed a hand to his abdomen, checking the progress of the eggs and the position of them now that the fluids supporting them had left. He counted four eggs of a moderate size, something he could bear easily if memory served him correctly.

With the next tightening, he bore down, gently easing the egg into his valve. He could feel the stretch of the egg, the lump slowly disappearing and being replaced by another. He gently gyrated his hips, kneeling on the berth and letting gravity help with the birth.

The tip of the egg peeked out from his valve lips, shiny with fluid as his valve stretched over it. He grunted again, denta grinding as he gyrated his hips again, the egg popping free from him and gently being caught in his hand. The other eggs rolled in his tank, seeming to fight one another to see who would be born next. He eased a hand to his abdomen, trying to calm them as he glanced down at his egg. He cradled it to his chestplate, wiping it off with a spare cloth as the tightenings lessened for a moment. He took the time to gather his strength and check the egg for imperfections. 

Tears gathered in his optics as he looked over the unblemished egg, kissing it gently before easing it into the ratty nest between his knees as the next egg made itself known with a rather intense tightening in his abdomen. He hissed through his denta, pushing with the contraction as the egg lodged itself into the opening of his tank, slightly larger than its elder sibling. Ratchet gently ran a hand over his abdomen, petting it before he bore down again, shifting his hips to try to gently ease the egg into his valve. The burn was more intense, a tight line of pain that he was more than willing to deal with if it meant birthing these eggs.

“Ratchet?” Came a polite voice from the door, something that broke Ratchet’s concentration as he turned his helm towards the door. The door was opening at the field of the familiar mech before him, and Ratchet’s optics widened on Drift’s frame. The egg was stretching him before it got stuck, something that Ratchet tried to hide as he shifted himself to the side, showing most of his back towards the speedster.

“Yes? I'm a little, ah, busy right now.” He said as another contraction washed over him. He chanted at the other mech, trying to get him to go away, but Drift walked closer, steps uncertain.

“I wanted to know why you were…..what are you doing?” HE asked, helm tilted to the side as he spotted how large RAtchet was, and the egg lovingly tucked between his legs and peeking out of his valve. Fluid dripped from his lips as they strained over the tip of the egg inside him.

“What the hell happened to you?!” Drift called in a panic, to which Ratchet growled at him as he pressed a hand to the side of his swollen abdomen, trying to get the eggs to calm down and move the pressure off of the one stuck in his valve. Ratchet tiredly chuckled as he rubbed again, wincing.

“Right, you are too young to know.” He murmured to himself, to which the speedster’s optics narrowed as his arms crossed, watching the mech’s abdomen tighten again. He was itching to take the other egg and smash it, to rid Ratchet of this...this...parasite! When did he get sick? How did he hide it from him?

“This is how Cybertronians reproduce, Drift.”Ratchet said, shifting his hips and edging the egg out further. Drift’s optics widened as he looked from the others belly to the eggs, then back to the others faceplates.

“All this time….this was why you have been avoiding me?” Drift said accusingly, stalking closer to Ratchet and tilting the others helm up to look at the speedster full in the face. Ratchet nodded, another tightening washing over him as the egg finally reached the widest part. He cried out as his valve lips paled before finally the egg was released into the hand of…..Drift. Ratchet’s spark clenched at the way that Drift was looking at his recently birthed egg, cradling it in his hands, hands that had killed so many over the war. Ratchet reached for the egg, wanting nothing more than to take it back and clean it, to get ready for the next one.

“I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid.” He whispered, rubbing a hand over his belly, feeling the other eggs rolling around before another settled deep in his hips. Drift glanced from the egg to Ratchet, scowling.

“Of me?” He hissed, tightening his grip on the egg causing Ratchet to cry out. The egg was fine, unblemished, the spark of the bitty inside pulsing strongly as Ratchet panted, exhaustion rolling over his frame.

“Afraid of keeping you here, afraid of you accusing me of keeping you trapped here. You can go, just...please let me have this. Have them.” He said, grunting as another contraction bore down on him, reaching to touch the remaining eggs to resettle the pressure. His hand came into contact with another, and he glanced down to see Drift cupping his belly, feeling the eggs moving under his hand as if they sensed their sire was right there.

“You should have talked to me, Ratchet. This is all I have ever dreamed of.” He whispered, sliding the egg in between Ratchet’s legs, resting against the other that was already there as he moved behind Ratchet. He pulled him against his chassis, supporting him and cupping his belly as another contraction rolled over the medic. Ratchet bore down, belly rising to meet Drift’s questing hands as he grunted softly. Drift gently kissed the other's neck, whispering sweet words of encouragement as the egg slide through the now widened passage from its siblings. This one was smaller than the others, peeking out of Ratchet’s valve with just two pushes. He panted quietly, sagging in Drift’s arms before another contraction was rolling over him. He reached to cup the egg, catching it and bringing it to his chassis, crooning to it. Drift also crooned, reaching out to gently brush the back of his digits against its surface. Ratchet felt love wash over him as he concentrated on this moment, forever encasing it in his memory as he cleaned the egg and placed it with its siblings between his legs.

“Should be one more. Here, feel?” He said, taking Drift’s hand and sliding it across his belly, ignoring the tingle of pleasure that came from the touch as Drift cupped the lump. Drift nodded silently against the others plating as he shifted to better take Ratchet’s weight.

The egg, encouraged by the touches, slipped into Ratchet’s valve, spreading him open as the growing charge from each egg continued to grow, electricity crackling over his frame and sparking into Drift’s plating as he moaned. He had heard stories of layings that had turned orgasmic, but now he knew the true pleasure of laying with the sire of his clutch behind him. HE shifted his hips, rubbing into Drift’s own as the egg slipped further out of him before being caught by Drift, cradled gently before being lifted and pressed against Ratchet’s chest. Ratchet sighed, happy that it was over, before another rush of fluids and a slight burn wedged itself into his valve. He jerked, looking down to see another egg peeking out of his valve.

“Huh.” He said stupidly as Drift’s hand, no longer carrying the egg as Ratchet had taken over that duty, spread his valve lips, gently tugging on them and brushing teasingly against the others node, drawing more charge into Ratchet’s frame. He bucked his hips, egg sliding out of his valve and landing into Drift’s hand with a final wash of fluid. Ratchet collapsed onto Drift, who carefully lowered him and the precious cargo to the berth, cleaning the medic and the eggs up one final time as the speedster purred.

“Five eggs, and a beautiful mate. What more could I ask for.”


End file.
